


Million Man Marching Band

by PaleNoFace



Series: Smeet Army AU [10]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Parent Professor Membrane, Boundaries, Canon-Typical Violence, Clone Dib (Invader Zim), Clones, Crying, Developing Friendships, Dib Has Issues (Invader Zim), Dubious Science, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Fist Fights, Frenemies Dib & Zim (Invader Zim), Gratuitous use of italics, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre Smeet Army Era, Pre-Relationship, Relationship Discussions, SO, There will be sweat, Zim Also Has Issues (Invader Zim), Zim Cares (Invader Zim), Zim is Bad at Feelings (Invader Zim), a lot of crying, and how to establish them, buckle up buttercup, dib's ugly crying, he gets better in the au but it's implied he's Not Good in this one, professor membrane is kind of terrible as of right now, there will be blood - Freeform, there will be tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26253601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaleNoFace/pseuds/PaleNoFace
Summary: "We're both creeps with no sense of boundaries, and we are lonely as fuck, and we should definitely do something about it."
Relationships: Dib & Zim (Invader Zim), Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Series: Smeet Army AU [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658659
Comments: 24
Kudos: 77





	Million Man Marching Band

**Author's Note:**

> Ooh boy, that was a tough one to write, but once I started there was no stopping me. I love my idiotic sons and I especially love it when they're self-aware are actively working on their flaws.
> 
> (Also enemies to reluctant allies to friends to friends-with-benefits to lovers is a real trope and I'm such a slut for it.)
> 
> Title from Hullabaloo by Rare Americans.

They make peace on one March evening, the year Dib turns fourteen.

It starts out of nowhere. Dib pretty much explodes in his face, which would have been normal if Zim had done _anything at all_ to provoke this kind of reaction. Except he _didn't_ , he didn't even have an evil plan ready for this week, and Dib just went _ballistic_.

The next thing he knows, they're on a rampage around the neighborhood.

There has been an epic battle, as always, and lots of property damage, and some blood spilled - mostly by Dib, who has an open gash along his arm, courtesy of Zim's PAK legs. There's also been an umbrella and an oversized genetically modified carrot involved, but Zim can't remember when they came into the picture.

And, as much as he'd like for it all to be fine, it's not normal.

"Give up, Zim !" Dib bellows, unaware, or uncaring, about the state of his arm, waving the carrot around like a sword. "Earth will not surrender !"

That, too, is very on script, so Zim isn't exactly sure what is bothering him so much.

"I can work with that !" he screeches in return, propped up on his bloody PAK legs to loom over his nemesis. "Where's the fun if-"

He cuts himself short.

Oh, _now_ Zim can see what's wrong. Dib is shaking, and badly, even. He can't even seem to hold the offending vegetable straight. The Invader drops back on his feet, mechanical legs folding into his PAK. Dib lets out an involuntary strangled noise and falls backward on the sidewalk, carrot bouncing on the concrete next to him.

"Uuuuh, Dib-monkey ?" Zim starts, unsure if he should just push through their usual back and forth or if this new situation requires a break. "Are you... malfunctioning ?"

Dib starts to cry.

Zim takes a step back. For a second, he thinks it's a trick - it wouldn't be the first time Dib takes him by the sentiments only to stab him in the back the moment his guard's down - but the act is good, _too good_ not to be genuine. Dib is wheezing, sobbing quietly, his glasses foggy and nose running, and Zim-

Zim doesn't know what to do.

What he knows, though, is that the neighbors are starting to get out of their houses, probably alerted by the sudden lack of fighting noises, and something in his guts twists when he hears a mocking laugh coming from a window, no doubt at Dib's crumpled form, and Zim knows how it goes once they start making fun of him, and so he does the first thing he thinks about.

"Let's get out of here," he says, and grabs the human's arms to pull him up.

Dib doesn't fight back, and it only comforts the alien deeper in the idea that something is terribly wrong. He tugs him away from the avenue they were methodically ravaging a moment before, and into a side alley only inhabited by a shockingly fat rat. It runs away with an affronted squeak when they approach.

Dib manages to sit on a cardboard box that carves a little under his weight and curls up on himself, arms hugging his knees, a hand tugging at his hair.

Zim stays put, at a loss.

"I'm fine," Dib eventually gasps as he tries vainly to get his voice back under control. "Just- hold on, just gimme a minute."

The little Irken takes one step closer. Then another when Dib doesn't try to punch him for standing in his stupid "personal space".

  
It's weird, to stand so close to his nemesis and not do anything about it - it's not like it's the first time, though. There was the Bologna Debacle, a few years back. Or, some time later, That Time With The Time Loop.

Or more recently, the whole thing with the Tallest. Dib was there, for some reason he can't quite recall, and he saw, and didn't even _try_ to take advantage of his breakdown over the Tallest so openly tearing into him.

(They do not talk about Zim's breakdown. They just don't. It's not really the kind of topic you want to bring up with your sworn enemy.)

Dib takes a couple of quick breaths, not really gasps anymore but not calm enough to be regular human breathing yet. Zim is still quiet. It's so unlike himself, he knows, but there's something about Dib crumbling and crying that is just _so wrong_.

"Fuck, this is the worst day of my life," Dib sighs, now angrily rubbing away any evidence of tears - not very successful, in Zim's opinion, since it only makes his face redder and blotchier. "Can we, uh, can we pick this back another day ?"

"Fine, I guess," Zim shrugs, uncomfortable. "Go hide in your wretched house-base and lick your wounds, if you're so certain you can't fight back today."

"Hey, fuck you," Dib says, elbowing him. "I... I don't want to go home. I can't go home."

Zim frowns, and it's not only because of the jab at his side.

"Did something happen with your family unit ?"

It's Dib's turn to shrug. He ducks his head, dries his nose on his sleeve (the same one that's covered in blood, as he still doesn't seem to have registered his wound) and stares pointedly at the end of the street.

Suddenly, he's on his feet, hand extended, and Zim almost flinches, expecting a slap or a punch, but-

"Do you want to go get ice cream ?"

And Zim, _stupid, gullible, attention-starved Zim_ , accepts.

____________________________________________________________________________

"You know," the alien boy says between two spoons of double-chocolate-bubblegum-Smurf-lime-with-sprinkles, "This isn't what I pictured when you said you wanted to go get I-scream."

" _Ice cream_ ," Dib mumbles around his mouthful of oreo-peppermint-cola-with-no-sprinkles. "As in, frozen dairy."

Zim flicks his spoon at him, and the human glares back through the now thoroughly specked lenses of his glasses.

"We haven't done anything ice-related recently," Zim points out without missing a beat, or even acknowledging the droplets of melted ice cream all over Dib's face. "You did destroy my freezing ray, yes ?"

"Six months ago, space boy. The inter-dimensional portal battle ?"

" _Ah_ ," Zim snaps his fingers in realization. "Right. I liked the Pale Dib- he had a very funky hat. GIR still wears it around the base sometimes."

Dib rolls his eyes and shoves more dessert in his mouth.

"Whitewashed Dib was fucking racist and only lived to piss me off, that's what. Also, Vortian Zim was a nightmare to get rid of, but he did have cool inventions."

"That he did," Zim nods with a longing sigh. "That thermal-based bomb he tried to plant in the heart of this mud-ball planet was, if I dare say so myself, a work of art."

"I hate to admit it, but you're right. Too bad Human Zim and Elder Dib took it."

They chuckle at the memory of the senile scientist shaking all about while the kid in pink shirt was shrieking and shoving a giant ticking bomb into a tiny portal.

They fall back into silence, poking at their respective melting ice cream.

Zim stares at the city expanding at their feet, bathed in the orange light of the late afternoon. He dangles his legs in the void, playing with gravity on the edge of the roof. For once, he is certain Dib isn't going to try and shove him off the abandoned building.

"I did save the planet," Dib then says, quietly, so quietly Zim isn't sure he heard him right.

"Uh, yeah, and infuriatingly too often for my taste."

That pulls a tiny grin from Dib.

"Heh. Thanks, dude."

Zim peeks at him curiously.

"Is this what this is about ?" he says eventually, when Dib fails to pick the conversation back up. "About your ability to protect your ungrateful people ?"

"I guess ?" the teenager says, scratching the side of his head pensively. "I mean, that's also part of the problem, but I think I'm having a bit of an existential crisis."

"You know they don't deserve it, right," Zim insists, eyes fixed on the ant-like population evolving under them. "Yet you keep saving them from Zim."

"Not like you've done anything life-threatening recently, you glorified space roach. None of your latest plans have been lethal. ...Even less than before, I mean."

"Oh, fuck you, Dib," Zim spits. "Your species is worst than Vurguuls, and that's saying something. Even if you weren't there to save their sorry asses every two days, they would find a way to make my life a living hell. There's no escaping this nightmare of a place."

Dib seems to think about it, then pokes at his bowl.

"I dunno, Zim. We have pretty great ice cream."

Zim laughs, genuinely.

"Fair enough. I can tolerate being exiled here as long as I can have access to your I-scream."

" _Ice cream_ , you moron."

"Silence, you barely evolved ape embryo."

"Space garbage."

"Smelly ground beef pile."

"Little green man knock-off."

Zim chucks his remaining ice cream at Dib's head but misses entirely, sending his sugary soup to drop onto the nearest unsuspecting civilian on the street. He immediately turns back to Dib.

"Gimme some of yours."

"I'd literally rather die, Zim."

"That can be arranged."

Because he is not an only child and clearly too emotionally exhausted to fight the Invader off, Dib inevitably ends up sharing his remaining ice cream with Zim.

"Disgusting," the alien comments, despite digging steadily into his designated half.

"Stop eating it and I might believe you," Dib replies, and pushes the bowl closer so they don't have to stretch too far to reach for it. "Hey, random question-"

"HAH ! So this _was_ all a ploy to get answers out of Zim !" the other accuses with a pointed finger, his spoon stuffed into his cheek. "The Empire might have betrayed me but I am no snitch ! No stitches for me !"

"Wh- No ! And it's about something you already told me anyway, so what does it matter to you ?!"

Zim squints suspiciously at him, but goes back to eating, waving at him to ask away. Dib takes a weird deep breath and drops his spoon in the bowl, which only encourages Zim to pick at his definitely-not-side of the ice cream.

"You guys are like, all cloned, right ? All the same ?"

Zim makes a grimace and waves around with his spoon.

"Well, yes, but no," he says, and kicks at Dib when the boy sighs dramatically. "Shut your face-hole and let Zim explain. On Irk, where the control brains and the smeeteries are, there is a genetic pool library- a giant stockage room filled with DNA of the original Irkens, back when they weren't... PAKed."

Dib's eyebrows jump into his hairline.

"How long ago was that ?"

"Before anything existed on Earth. Before the Tallest that was before the Tallest." Zim replies. 

"So, you are... a copy of, what ? The original Zim ?"

"No, idiot ! Zim is his own person ! A unique combination of this meat body and this PAK ! The Irken that had the PAK before me was an ambassador, according to my re-encoding files, and the one before was the first Irken to set foot on what is now known as Sugarlandia."

"Your names for things are increasingly terrible with every passing day."

"Silence ! Your leading brand of soda is named Poop Cola."

"...Point taken. Continue."

"The point I'm trying to make is that I knew at least five more Irkens with my exact genetic makeup by the time I came here, but none of them were me."

"So, you're saying that, just because you're all clones, it doesn't mean you're the same person, or designed to do the exact same thing."

Zim frowns, concentrating.

"Yes...?" he tries after three seconds, then more loudly, "Yes ! Exactly ! The Dib-human is not so stupid after all."

"You're not too bad at explaining stuff, I suppose," Dib admits, and his smile is a little strained, but real. "So... That means I don't have to get into science to change the world."

"Eh ?" Zim says, very intelligently.

Dib flushes red and shoves the last of the ice cream in his mouth. Zim thinks about protesting very loudly but changes his mind at the last second, and it's not at all because of the threatening shine of the human's eyes that usually announce more tears, nope, absolutely not.

"So, uh, I was going through my Dad's lab at home, you know, the one in the basement ?"

"I'm familiar with it, yes."

"Yeah, and I was looking for ideas to get back at you for the paintball fiasco, and I looked at a bunch of papers in binders because that's usually where my Dad puts his unfinished and ongoing projects, right ?"

"...Right ?"

"Right. And so I'm reading through this file about using an invasive sub-species of beavers to eat through fallen trees on roads, and I find this bunch of documents, thicker than my arm- oh, shit, have I been bleeding ? Nevermind, that's not important- _and it has my name on it_."

Dib stares at Zim for a reaction, but the little green alien is just sitting there, eyes wide, spoon drooping from his mouth, waiting for the rest of the story. Dib shuffles closer, and continues.

"So I got through it, right, because who wouldn't go through a scientific paper about themselves ? And so I read it all, back to back, and it hits me that my Dad lied all this time about me. He was studying human cloning because he was scared of dying and wanted to have a little Himself to pick up the slack once he was dead, so..."

Dib is vaguely aware that his voice is becoming very high pitched and frantic, borderline hysteric, but Zim isn't interrupting him and he knows that if he stops if only for a second he Will Break and start crying again.

"So he cloned himself a bunch of times, with different parameters, to see if the embryos would be enhanced, and- obviously it didn't work, because human cloning technology isn't that good, even if it's my Dad working it, and, and... And you know what the worst part is ? He didn't even choose me because I was the best result. I was just the only one that survived, because I was too stubborn to do like the others and die."

He takes a deep breath, and feels a nasty lump lodging itself in the back of his throat.

"So basically at the beginning I was just a Professor Membrane Bis waiting to happen, but something fucked up along the line and now I'm just Professor Membrane's crazy clone-son that chases aliens around and is obsessed with supernatural shit."

Fuck, he started crying again, Zim realizes, snapping back to reality.

"For what it's worth," the Irken says, placing a tentative hand on Dib's shoulder, "You shouldn't drop science just to spite your parent leader, that'd be uncharacteristically dumb of you."

When Dib only ogles at him, Zim kicks him one more for good measure and explains :

"You _do_ use science to save the world, you just tweak it enough to fit whatever idea you're following at the moment - _you make it your own_. Dib, you idiot, you really think your dad would think about something as stupidly brilliant as the Mothman Theorem ?!"

Dib chuckles and shakes his head.

"He's probably too busy with-"

"Real science ?" Zim does the irken equivalent of rolling his eyes. "Duh. You proved a statistical AND meteorological phenomenon by chasing down a urban legend, how isn't that real science ?"

"Alright, you made your point."

"Did I ? Because you don't look very convinced, and Zim still got plenty to go around. How about the lava-powered engine ? Or that time you car-jacked a spaceship from a species you didn't even know because you figured they used binary code for their systems ? Or-"

"Enough, Zim, what the fuck are you trying to do here ?"

Zim is back on his feet, feeling cold rage building up unreasonably in his tiny body, and presses his finger between Dib's eyes, driving the point home by jabbing at him with every word.

"You. Are. Smart. Enough. That's what I'm saying. You're SMART and INSUFFERABLE and I will not stand by and watch hardly civilized WORMS fill your humongous head with half-baked LIES. You're not _insane_ ," he scoffs, haunty and sneering. "You're bright. You're more open to the things around you than any of them could ever hope to be."

Dib looks like a vital organ just misplaced itself in his throat, but that never stopped Zim, and it certainly isn't stopping him now.

"Your dad didn't make you this way, you did that to yourself. And still you want to believe in his plans for your puny little future as his heir, trying to put you on the throne of a crumbling science-y empire ? He doesn't even know what you're capable of ! _I do !_ I AM YOUR NEMESIS AND I KNOW BETTER. I fear you at your best. Today I saw you at your worst, and I still think you're a threat. Now be proud and stop crying, you're grossing me out."

(Later, when Gaz will find him face-down on the couch and ask him what's wrong, Dib will declare in the most confused tone possible that Zim, for all his defects and oddities, is surprisingly good at pep talks. Right now, all he can do is stare dumbly at the alien, vaguely aware of the tears streaming down his face again.)

"Seriously, stop all this waterwork, you're giving Zim the creeps."

Dib laughs wetly and dries his face with his intact sleeve. Zim sits back next to him, a smidge closer that would be considered appropriate by anyone else but them.

"Thanks," he says, and bumps his shoulder against the alien's, who grumbles.

"Nemeses go in pairs," he insists. "What is Zim good for, with no one to stop him ?"

Dib is silent for a second, then says :

"You realize that, if we keep fighting indefinitely, at some point one of us might get seriously hurt, right ?"

Zim stiffens, but leans back against him, absolutely not drawing comfort from the contact he's allowed to have.

"Of course I know that, Dib-stink. And when that happens, whoever is left will go back to be by himself."

Dib shrugs, jostling Zim a little.

"Maybe we could..." he starts, trying to pass his tone as casual, "You know. Not fight anymore."

Zim goes straight as a board, this close to dismiss the idea, but there's a softness to Dib's expression that stops him from doing exactly that.

"Our entire relationship is based on fighting," he declares blankly. "There would be nothing left."

"Not necessarily," Dib replies, careful, like he's about to drop a touch-sensitive bomb. "We could try and be... I dunno. Friends ?"

At Zim's mad cackle, the teenager squawks indignantly and shoves him off.

"Shut up, I'm trying to find alternatives here !"

Zim gasps between two fits of hysterics and dramatically dries his eyes.

"You and me, _friends_ ? Did Keef get to you ?"

"All I'm saying is that it's not horrible to hang out with you ! Look at us right now, isn't that good enough ?" Dib points at the empty bowl and the two plastic spoons. " _This_ is actually nice, for once ! We got ice cream and a very nice scenery, and fuck, you actually managed to make me feel better about the whole clone thing. It's been driving me mad for the past week, Zim, and turns out just talking to you about it made the whole situation a lot less terrible."

"It's because I'm clearly smarter than you-"

"Maybe so !" Dib explodes. "Maybe you are, but you're just as lonely as I am, and _fuck_ , let's be real, our fights are just a poor excuse to get attention because that's the only way we both know how to get it ! Which is stupid, because it hurts, and it's time-consuming, and we could be doing much cooler stuff instead !"

Zim stands near the edge of the roof, looking anywhere but at Dib. He takes a moment to collect his thoughts and process what the boy just said.

"Fighting is good, though," he says carefully, eyes lost in the dusk-colored sky. "We know how to do it correctly. It's easy and it's... Familiar. Not doing that would be awkward, no ?"

He hears more than he sees Dib shrug.

"Maybe. Probably. But I like it better than knowing that at some point, one of us won't be able to retaliate. I'm thinking long-term here. We could build stuff together- we're good at building stuff. Or you could come with me cryptid-hunting. Or take me with you in space."

"How can you be sure we won't just eviscerate each-other after a week ?" Zim spits, the line of his shoulders tense under his uniform.

Dib sighs and pulls himself on his feet to go stand next to him.

"I can't. It's a gamble. But I want to believe we're similar enough to make it work."

"Why ?" Zim laughs again, and it's almost mean. "Because we're both clones ?"

If it hits Dib where it hurts, he manages to not show it.

"Because we both like a lot of the same nerdy stuff. Because sometimes we manage to be civil enough and I, for one, like it. Because we're both creeps with no sense of boundaries, and we are lonely as fuck, and we should definitely do something about it."

Zim only stares into the emptiness, but the tension in his back, jaw, shoulders has melted to nothing. He lets out a deep, long-suffering sigh, and nods.

"Alright, _fine_ , Dib-worm. We can try your friendship thing." He raises a finger as Dib makes a discreet but victorious fist-pump, "AT ONE CONDITION. If it doesn't work, we go right back to be sworn enemies, and we never talk about it ever again."

Dib has a shit-eating grin invading his face, and it's stupid and contagious, and Zim can't help but grin back, and maybe, super deep down, hope it'll work.

"So," he says instead, trying to sound mocking and failing spectacularly. "What do friends usually do when they don't beat the shit out of each-other ?"

Dib gives him a knowing look and waggles his eyebrows, thumbing at the door leading back inside the building.

"Well, we do have an entire abandoned building to mess with. Wanna try and find out if it's still structurally sound ?"

(When Zim will look back at this moment, years and years later, he'll pinpoint it as the first time he looked at Dib, _really_ looked at him, acne scars and crooked glasses and greasy hair and all, and thought that the universe might still have some nice things in stock for him.)

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and comments, it feeds the author's motivation !


End file.
